Udeesha Arora

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Cyberpunks, these kids are

Nails urge to screech against the blackboard;
To drag down the once-smooth surface, down, down, and down,
To produce the most uncomfortable sound known to mankind,
And to stir something within the frozen senses of my heart —
This heart has been confined by the abhorrence of emotions
From all nooks and crannies,
And now, it has come to the verge of stopping to beat.
I wanna feel alive.

The rigidity of my flaming anger —
Which had earlier halted to rest and rejuvenate,
Only to fool my mind into acceptance of having no rage whatsoever —
Is something that irks the bizarre serenity of my heart.
I want it to rage louder and louder,
And to consume everything in its diameter with white fury;
The cyberpunks in this dystopian era have overpowered the humans,
Soon to be coronated with the utmost power,
And I am left to protest with a heart
That is turning frigid with each passing moment.

This scene is not at all meant to be celebrated,
But these robotic-rooted hearts wouldn’t understand,
For they are mechanical in their nature,
And they dance to their own electronic rhythms.
Silence twirls in the darker corners of this chamber,
Where I am chained to the walls for being the last one
Who is left with bones and blood in her system.

Cyberpunks, these kids are,
Who have absolutely no idea what they had walked into
And what they have emerged to be —
Don’t they all want to feel alive, too?

Oh, no, this is not going to end well,
For the spark of life they had been searching for, all this time,
Has diminished inside them completely,
Leaving them to be pieces of glitchless perfection,
In the world of dystopia,
Climbing the stairs to its destruction, its ruination.

Wordlessly, they sway their bodies to melodies that are untrue,
Watching me chained up to the corner
And laugh.
However, even though I am tied until death comes knocking at my door,
I shake my head at their naivety and chuckle —
Who is going to have the last laugh, anyway?
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